


The Stranglinator 3000

by Spoon888



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Humor, Improper Use Of An Assassination Drone, Masturbation, Other, Sticky, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, With A Machine Not Designed For It, attempted strangulation, i guess, sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 15:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream's latest attempt on Megatron's life comes in the form of a bizarrely designed and cheaply made drone whose sole purpose is to strangle things with it's weird tentacle-like cables.A sexually frustrated Megatron finds another use for it.





	The Stranglinator 3000

**Author's Note:**

> For a very special supporter who asked for some Megatron/tentacles!

The Stranglinator 3000 was perhaps Starscream's greatest weapon yet. Simple, yet elegant. A small subtle drone on wheels, armed with dexterous cables capable of gripping, restraining, and constricting a mech even Megatron's size.

Precisely Megatron's size in fact.

He stepped back and considered his magnificent creation proudly, cocking a hip as he pressed the remote activation to online it-

-Then had to take a diving leap out of path with a shrill squeal when the defective thing shot forwards on it's stolen squeaky bicycle wheels, tentacle-like gripping arms flailing wildly in the air. It flew past him, waving pink cables a blurs.

Starscream rolled onto his side and frantically pressed the offline button. The drone failed to respond, instead driving at full pelt into the wall, where it smashed it's way through an air-vent cover and disappeared into the bowels of the base.

Starscream crawled over and picked up the metal cover, carefully putting it back into place over the air-vent before working to hide any remaining evidence that he could be responsible for whatever inevitable havoc it would reap across the base.

With any luck the Stranglinator 3000 would find it's way to Megatron anyway, and do what it was designed to do: strangle old mechs in their recharge.

* * *

Thankfully, Megatron wasn't recharging.

He was awake -_too_ awake- and deeply frustrated.

He was flat on his front on his berth, a hand between splayed thighs as he furiously worked his valve with his fingers, thumb rubbing at his anterior node hard enough the pressure he was putting on it faded the bio-light within. He couldn't reach deep enough inside himself, couldn't spread his fingers far enough, and stranded on this despicable alien planet, he had nothing larger to use in their place.

He hadn't dared to bring such a thing as a false spike or a vibrator aboard the _Nemesis_ for fear of someone (_Starscream)_ snooping around in his personal possessions and finding it, but he also wasn't about to lower himself to seeking out the assistance of a subordinate amongst his Earth crew, not when -again- _Starscream_ was so eagerly searching for any excuse to prove himself Megatron's 'better' -in whatever petty he way he could.

Which was a shame. Megatron would have been very happy to let a handsome young mech like Starscream spike him, if only he hadn't known full well it would result in a millennia of gloating.

So fingers it was, he thought got himself, exhaling impatiently into his pillow, rocking his hips down onto his hand and grinding harshly enough to rock the sturdy berth frame against the bulkhead. Trapped between the berth padding and his armoured waist, his spike was hard and aching, tip leaking pre-fluid enough to leave a darkening damp spot on the fabric.

He growled and snarled in dissatisfaction, knowing this was going to be yet another night that ended in disappointment- when a series of clangs from behind the bulkhead distracted him, growing steadily louder.

He turned his head out of the pillow, fingers still buried his valve, just in time for the cover of his air-vent to shake as something on the other-side slammed into it. There was a whirring noise like a small car reversing, then _bang_, the cover flew off and a wheeled contraption came shooting into his quarters, a dozen pink flexible cables of varying size and thickness waving about madly on it's top.

It flew at him with deadly intent, and hand having just found the _good spot_ inside his valve and reluctant to lose it, Megatron swept a leg off the berth and swung a kick at it instead.

The flimsy thing flew through the air and hit the bulkhead with a cheap sounding _clack_. It landed back on the floor on it's now wonky wheels and began spinning in slow sad broken circles.

Megatron sighed, withdrawing fingers from his neglected valve and wiping his damp hand on the sheets to dry them off. He'd better see what nonsense this was.

He picked the contraption up. It was still online, but obviously broken. The cables it was covered in where waving and twisting at a much more sedate pace now, like it's Kill protocols had been put on standby from the damage. Megatron flipped it over and looked at it's underside, finding an inscription.

**Stranglinator 3000**

Starscream, he sighed, turning it the right way up again. This was by far the worse assassination attempt yet.

The studied the unusual design of the weapon more closely, sitting on the edge of his berth. The cables were numerous and ranged in size, and made of some sort of synthetic pliable material rather than metal, presumably to make it easier for them to curl up around someone's neck and _throttle_ them. They had a smooth texture, and when Megatron dragged a finger along one of the slimmer cables, it instinctively curled around his digit, gripping and pulsating, the strength of it's stranglehold lost.

Megatron eyed the other cables, the thicker ones. The largest was as wide as his wrist towards it's base, and Megatron was struck by a _terrible_ idea.

Well frankly it would serve Starscream right if he should choose to use his second's assassination attempt to self-serve.

With any luck the thing wouldn't reset itself half way through and yank his spike clean off. But having gone months without a decent overload Megatron was willing to risk it. Spikes could easily be reattached. Sanity was much harder to restore.

He laid back on his berth, thighs parted and spike limp against his hip, and held the broken machine with both hands above his pelvis, ready to yank it away at the first sign of deadly intent. He brought it closer so the searching cables could find him, and the soft tentacle-like arms began to slip and circle against his armour, looking for something to grip.

Two smaller cables found his spike and immediately began to wind around it, crossing over one another as they traveled towards the tip. Megatron's spike hardened to the touch and rose as they pulsed, the tapered ends of the cables slipping across and circling around the head, his transfluid glistening on the synthetic outer coating.

Most other cables wrapped around his thighs in a similar manner, so Megatron had to grip one of the thicker ones and unravel it from where it was curling around his knee, guiding it to his valve instead. The tip waved back and forth over his plush folds, brushing his node in sweeping waves, making Megatron's optical feed cross over in delight. 

Megatron pushed it forwards more insistently, until the tapered tip was curled up and wedged against his rim. When it unfolded itself, it slipped inside him, flexing and twisting around inside. He moaned, dropped the machine between his thighs, and started playing with the buttons on his abdomen instead, using a pede to nudge the Stranglinator closer to the apex of his thighs, clenching his valve to prevent the retreat of the large cable inside him, urging it to move deeper.

Unable to escape, it did. It was thicker towards the base and began to stretch Megatron's valve rim beautifully. Some of the smaller cables had started to curl around the larger one inside him, worming their way up, slipping inside him alongside the first cable. He offlined his optics with a groan, arching his back and pressing against the machine he had trapped between his thighs.

But it wasn't enough, lying back and twitching into sweeping touches and squirming sensations.

He sat up, carefully getting to his knees without crushing any of the swaying cables under his weight. He gripped the base of the thickest cable to keep it in place when he rose, then sank down again, optics rolling into the back of his helm when he felt it curl up like a tight corkscrew inside him, making itself thicker and blunter. It wound it's way deeper and deeper, until it reached the top of his valve and had nowhere else to go.

Megatron started riding it, aware and careful of the creaks his movements caused as it's cheap materials suffered under his weight. The cables around his spike were numerous now, the red and grey shine of his shaft barely visible beneath the pink shifting cables. Pre-fluid from his spike dripped between the writhing cables and created a pit patter of noise when it hit the berth beneath him.

He was so taken with the press of the cables inside his valve that he didn't notice a smaller, more dexterous cable sneaking it's away under his his aft plating until it had slipped, with ninja-like stealth, into his rear port.

He overloaded with a shout, hips jumping forwards. His valve cycled down hard and _crushed_ some of the weaker cables as he rode his overload out. He felt them crumple under the pressure of his callipers. His spike made an even greater mess of the cables slipping and sliding over his shaft as it jetted transfluid, spurts escaping between their rhythmic pulses.

Megatron came down gradually, twitching into the machine's ministrations until his post-climatic sensitivity was too much to bear. Vents still harsh and fast, he hastily grabbed at the writhing cables to pull them out of his oversensitive valve, prising the entire device off himself when the cables continued to return after he'd pushed them away.

"Persistent thing, aren't you." He muttered, kicking it off his berth. It landed on the floor upside-down, wheels rolling and cables thrashing in confusion.

With a heavy sigh, Megatron got to his shaky legs and kicked it upright again, guiding it along the floor with his pede and giving the sullied lubricant and transfluid covered machine a good boot back into the vent from whence it came, where hopefully, it would find it's way back to it's unhinged owner.

With any luck Starscream would try this method again, perhaps with stronger, thicker cables.

Megatron looked forward to it. 


End file.
